


Mama

by saintsavage



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 15:43:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2856281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintsavage/pseuds/saintsavage





	Mama

_"Mama."_ The memory comes to her on a rare night alone. Seeping in to her thoughts without invitation. That small voice, sweet and high as a willow reed whistle, so like her Robb. For half a second she'd turned around, expecting her Tully-brushed boy. Before the smile had a chance to die on her lips she'd lashed out, blindly. She'd struck him clear across the mouth. _Jon_. He'd fallen back on his rump, mouth agape, dark eyes looking up at her in utter shock. Ned's eyes.

Horror overcame the sudden, shaking rage she felt. Horror at what she'd done, at her own fury. _She'd struck a child_. A toddling boy the very mirror of her husband. The idea was so alien to her, so against her very nature: it was an ugly thing to realize that she was capable of such an act. Until that moment she had tried to do her duty, to accept that Ned had sullied their vows, smeared them with some unknown woman. A woman he'd loved so much he'd brought their child back with him like some sort of prize. Jon Snow was a constant reminder that Ned Stark had lied to her.

"Oh Mother." She was shivering, staring at her own hand as though it couldn't possibly be hers. It couldn't. How could it be? She'd done what needed to be done by the bastard and until this day she'd never harmed him. It was true, Catelyn couldn't say she'd treated him like the half-brother of her dear son, but she'd done what needed doing. He was fed and looked after by a nursemaid, kept clean and warm, but she would not demean herself by treating him as someone's son... Ned's son.

Still, it shouldn't have shocked her. Jon was there when she scooped Robb up in her arms, raining kisses on his ruddy cheeks, tousling his sweet, coppery curls. He watched her kiss away the hurt of scraped knees, light up when Robb had fumbled out his first few words - Mama among them. She'd never paid the bastard any real heed, other than vague thoughts of displeasure at the odd moment when he proved to be such a strong contrast against Robb. He looked so much like a trueborn Stark, more than he had any right to look. His mother hadn't touched him at all, hadn't been decent enough to lessen the blow even in the smallest measure. But little boys can't understand the difference between Snow and Stark. It made sense that he'd repeat Robb like the little raven he was, calling her Mama.

It burned, knowing she _was_ his Mama - or closest he'd have to one. It was a position duty forced on her.

"No. No Jon Snow, I am _not_ your Mama." The voice belonged to the Stranger, surely. Low and hissing as it was. Catelyn Tully Stark could never sound so cold. Jon's eyes are glassy, brimming with tears. He gulps, upset. Confused. "No." The voice is more insistent, burning up the wick of her own horror, replacing it with resolve. _I will not mother him. That is not my duty. I may have to feed him and clothe him and watch him in the nursery, playing as though he has any right to be there, but he is not my son. He doesn't belong here._ "No Mama, Jon. Bastard's don't get them." Her throat tight, emotions flickering too quickly for her to understand, Lady Stark snatched up Robb, holding him close as she retreated from the nursery. At her back the bastard begins to wail, but she walks on.


End file.
